Reminiscing
by Mooncatcher
Summary: Sometimes you need to revisit the scenes of childhood to fully awaken what was happening now. No matter how ridiculous said childhood activity is. RobinxStarfire.


_A/N: Hi guys! Crazy waving It's me again! Cue the evil laughter! I got this one-shot from when I was jumping on the bed, and thinking about my childhood and sunshine and reminiscing. Total Hallmark moment. You should've been there. And then I snatched my dad's computer, since I am currently in mainland China, listening to a bunch of people patronize me, since they think I'm a bubble-headed idiot with no knowledge of Chinese whatsoever, so I have just enough time to post this before he takes it back again._

_Anyway, after the bed jumping incident, I started thinking 'bout Robin, cause imagining him jumping on beds was hilarious, seeing as how he's kinda a tight-ass sometimes and Batman wouldn't appreciate it too much and all. My first random-inspiration one-shot! W00t! Any details that clash with the show will instantly be adjusted to fit my preferences. _

**Robin: Do it now.  
Me: No.  
Robin: NOW.  
Me: NO.  
Robin: Stubborn brat!  
****Me: Obsessive compulsive clorbag!  
****Raven: Hey, you guys…(Gets four red eyes and the tentacles come out)  
****Robin and me: Sweat drops  
****Me: Err…Idon'townTeenTitansandIneverwillRavenpleasedon'thurtme!  
****Raven: There. Now was that so hard? (Evil grin)  
****Robin and me: Eep. **

At first, the coil and springs squeaked in protest from the pressure, the material firm and hard, but soon, after a while of persistency, all that could be heard was a soft crunching sound of sinking feet and ragged breathing. Then--

"Robin?" One word froze in his mind as the voice rang through his ears: '_Shit'_. He _knew _this was a bad idea. He had just thrown all the hard training and strict rigidness Batman instilled in him into the trash for caving into this childish, immature impulse. His body stopped as Starfire's emerald orbs pinned him down.

Her naked feet barely grazed the ground, the tips of her toes just kissing the worn carpeting, the familiar confused expression twisting her features while Robin tried to figure how the hell was he going to get out of this one, and what made him do it in the first place.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, when the sun was ripe and golden, hanging across the marigold horizon like a coin on fire, the perfect ending to a lazy, hazy week. A afternoon that made you think of fading velvet memories, the belly laugh of a child, clear blue summers, fresh grass after a rainfall. An afternoon that made you want to dive into the covers for a nap, under the heat of the heavy sunshine.

Apparently the villains shared the same opinion, because there was on uninterrupted peace all week, not even the slightest stirring of trouble, and after much begging on Beast Boy and Cyborg's part, crocodile tears from Starfire, and even a positive suggestion from Raven, Robin had been forced to conclude that an apocalypse was not going to happen today and made today a 'casual day'. And so the Titans dumped their usual Spandex-induced costumes, and instead chose a normal garb of everyday clothes.

Cyborg had dug out his old hologram rings, despite Robin's protests, programming it so he appeared clad in a Metallica shirt, bleached jeans and a thick silver wrist band, and Beast Boy, clothed in Paul Frank t-shirt with baggy denim pants and a baseball cap, would have brown skin and brown hair, instead of forest green features. They had both went to the mall to drool over the newest video game convention, dragging along a _very _reluctant Raven, who had donned silver hip-huggers and a lilac camisole with the compromise of a trip to the book store and her favourite café.

Robin would've been happy in his usual gear, tights, heavy metal boots, utility belt, but after more relentless pleading and puppy dog pouting, he had hesitantly changed into a skin-tight, dressy, crisp white collared shirt, buttoned neatly and stiff black jeans, straight out of the packet. He kept the mask, though. No amount of cajoling, glimmering eyes, and sunglasses types had convinced him.

Starfire (as always) had looked the most beautiful. She had abandoned her usual shades of purple and armor, combative-like alien outfit for a simple white dress, trimmed with subtle seasonal colors: gold intermingled with husky reds, browns and oranges. It was sleeveless, with a large round neckline, exposing her collarbone, bellowing just around her knee. A braid of autumn ribbons was draped casually around her waist. Her feet were bared of their knee-length boots and replaced with brown hemp sandals with gleaming silver buckles.

She was more gorgeous than he had ever seen her.

When Starfire had worriedly asked for their opinions, he had fled, not trusting himself to speak, sulkily retreating into the confined depths of his room, wallowing in self-pity and frustration until he noticed two things:

There was a glitch in his self-sliding door, because it was slightly ajar.

A small slice of sunlight was peeking in through the gap.

When he stalked over to give his door a kick, instead, he was transfixed by the single yellow beam that managed to sneak into his room.

For the first time since he'd moved in, Robin wished his room had windows. If not because the many articles plastered to his walls gave him the impression of more than a dozen villainous eyes watching him while he slept, then it was to fully appreciate sun-filled golden days like this one. Completely throwing his door open just in time to hear Beast Boy and Cyborg's departure with a disgruntled Raven, Robin yelled back a hurried reply before slowly standing in the middle of his room to admire his actions.

Gigantic pools of crystal sunny light were splashed everywhere, illuminating the grimacing villains into a mellow, comical perspective. Everything was bathed in yellow: from a deep, golden honey-brown to light, airy sandalwood, to ebbing translucent flavescent to the basic, sunshiny yellow, as warm and as comforting as loops and whirls of wool.

When Robin closed his eyes, letting the warmth envelop him, he felt a kind of immature, simple happiness that seemed to belong to a five-year-old boy instead of a teenage superhero. He had always hated the sunlight. It exposed him to his opponents, it was unbearably hot, and it always blinded him, making white spots appear, even after he closed his eyes.

But it was perfect moments like these that made him think all those liabilities were more than worth it.

Completely enraptured in childish delight now, Robin quickly kicked off his Converses and flung his socks away before climbing onto his bed. The feeling was strange. The new increase in height from bed, while not as dramatic as from, say, a twelve story building, gave him a whole new point of view, where he could observe things close-up, yet still from a high angle.

With a quick sweep of the room, ears straining to catch a footstep or the flicker of clothes, the tension in his muscles finally relaxed, and Robin began to jump on his bed. Yes, the Boy Wonder, former Batman protégé, and leader of the Teen Titans was bouncing around on his bed like a six-year old girl.

And he was not (mostly) ashamed. The way the mattress strained under his weight, his feet sinking deeply into the cushioned sheets, making pillows fly. How the tips of his fingers was _just _brush against the ceiling when he stretched, powering all his energy into those legs. The exhilaration in his gut that happens for a split second while he's suspended in the air, until gravity takes place. The warm-tinged nostalgia that comes in waves with every leap, ringing of his mother's trilling laughter and his father's deep chuckles. The feeling of utmost satisfaction of jumping, knowing with child-like logic there's a safe landing, because there should nothing less.

Then her voice cut through the air as fluidly and clearly as a jet of ice-cold water, melodic and inquisitive. Starfire looked even more beautiful now, her glowing red hair a halo against her tanned orange skin. Her brilliant jade eyes were lidded, as if she had just woken up from a nap. The golden tint of sunlight encircled her, tracing her features with a fair light, shading yellow buttery strands in her hair.

He was dumbstruck by her. A kind of awe for the aura of sunlight that lit up her beauty like the radiant sunset, mingling with the flushed embarrassment of being caught and a gut-wrenching panic for a plausible excuse.

This is what came out: "Urghaleapingpracticeshcaned."

"I do apologize, friend Robin, but I am not familiar with that earthen phrase. Would you be has benevolent as to explain it to me?"

"No! No—I was…err…I was…" Robin scratched his head, trying to find a way to deliver the fact that he had been jumping on the bed like toddler with some dignity. "Jumping…on my…err…bed."

"You are…skipping on your sleeping device? I thought such a strange, cushiony machine was designed specifically for the comfort and slumber of humans."

"It is!...You're…not exactly supposed to jump on them." He squared his shoulders, looking at his bare feet sheepishly: a aged version of the child he had been caught in the act.

"You are defying the law!?"

"No! No, but err…jumping on beds are err…what little kids do." Robin wouldn't meet Starfire's questioning gaze as he spoke. He didn't want her to see the scarlet flush that had crept up his neck as he mentally cringed, preparing for the worst.

Her next query shouldn't have surprised him, but it did, regardless.

"Is the jumping of the beds enjoyable?" It was a typical Starfire thing, always asking everything and anything, her face flushed with curiosity. He had expected her to leave, features twisted with disgust, mocking his juvenile behavior. He _hadn't _expected her to try and join in the fun.

"See for yourself." To his relief, Robin's baritone voice rang out casually and confidently, with only a small, unnoticeable tremor. Helping Starfire kick off her sandals, he loosely grasped his hand in hers, trying to ignore the rushed staccato beat of his heart and beads of sweat the trickled down the back of his neck.

Gently yanking her arm towards him, he clambered on the bed, and took Starfire's other hand. His eyes drilled into hers, trying to find a hint of disbelief, the ragged traces of faltering reluctance.

He only found innocence and warmth, glimmering with the usual bolts of adrenaline from excitement.

Taking a shuddering breath, Robin began to bounce, his hands firmly clamped to hers. He started with his feet completely planted on the bed, jumping only on the balls of his feet, setting a nice slow rhythm.

Then they were jumping wildly, legs flying, the air corkscrewing from the pits of their stomachs into bubbles of laughter. As gasps and bursts of chuckles escaped Robin, it was like the dead weight curled inside his chest had flown and faded away as easily as the laughter. His carefully made covers swirled around their ankles, and was promptly kicked, cascading down the bed in a waterfall of cloth, closely followed by a shower of perfectly fluffed pillows, now marred with crumples and creases.

His hands still hadn't let go of hers.

At first, Starfire's jumps had been small, timid, feet barely leaving the bed. Soon they grew as she became more confident, soaring higher until the springs squeaked loudly in protest. Her fiery red locks flew everywhere, some curling over her shoulder, bouncing lightly, others suspended in the air, waving and twisting, as animate as Medusa's snakes.

With a joyous yelp, Starfire let go of his hands and _jumped_, her palms stretched flat against the ceiling, floating in the air, hovering with her powers for a second before collapsing back onto the bed. Her hands gripped his shoulders—with Robin's breath hitching slightly-- as she fell, pulling them both on their backs, side by side.

They were panting and breathing heavily from the exertion, a thin sheen of perspiration covering their bodies, heads cocked slightly towards each other as they gazed at the ceiling and ebbing sunlight. Robin noticed how wisps of Starfire's hair had spread across his cheek, tickling and caressing it, and breathed in her heady scent: something floral and soft, fruity and perfumed.

"Robin?" There was a obvious question mark at the end of his name.

"Yeah, Star?"

"If the bouncing of beds is intended for human juveniles…"

"Yeah…"

"Forgive me for the prying of your business, but if such an activity is intended for the young, then why were you participating in it?"

He paused before answering.

"Because, Star…sometimes I just wanna act like a kid again, get away from all the stress and problems. Just be a dumb little kid and not care, because sometimes…just being a teenager…can suck." He sighed, fighting away frenzied memories of darkness, skin scraping against cement, and labored breathing as he trained in the damp, lonely cave again and again.

"Robin, I do agree that one may succumb to nostalgia and take part in childish acts." Starfire had turned on her side, eyes looking at him through her curtain of silky hair. "But I am sure there are pleasurable things contributed to the process of adolescence."

They were inching nearer to each other, slowly, hesitantly, but inevitable, until Robin could make out each sooty lash framing Starfire's liquid jade eyes and felt her minty chocolaty breath melt on his face, and their noses awkwardly touched.

Her lips were as soft and plump as satin pillows, moving in rhythm along with his. A shower of sparks seemed to fizz from his lips, frothing and sparkling as they kissed. He was more aware of her than ever, from the musky scent that teased his nose to her strands of ruby hair to the feel of her touch, soft as cashmere, milky smooth and tanned.

When they parted, everything seemed brighter, happier. Even the fading sunlight seemed to smile goodbye, promising to return cheerily. "I guess you're right," Robin murmured huskily into Starfire's ear. "There _are _perks to being a teenager."

Then he kissed her again.


End file.
